


A Whole Lot of Blood

by aware



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 16:58:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4884592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aware/pseuds/aware
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Strife, the only issue with this is, to power it I need a whole lot of blood."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Whole Lot of Blood

“Strife?” Alex’s voice inquires from the end of the corridor. He’s working away again, trying to find a way to set other people on fire and still get their blood to the altar. It’s pretty gruesome. Hopefully at some point he stops experimenting and hurting himself. I don’t want him to get hurt anymore.  


I pop my head around the door, my sunglasses threatening to fall off but I push them back up before they do. 

“Yes, Alex?”

“Could you get me a drink, Strifey?” 

“Alex, why can’t you? You’re not that stupid.”

“Watch out, that almost sounded like a compliment. Please Strife?”

“Fine! Next time you’re getting one for me.”

He winks at me - why must he mess with my insides in this way - and I stalk down the corridor once again until I reach the staircase. Placing my calloused hands, roughened with work, on the sleek mahogany handrail. One of my favourite parts of Strife Solutions was this staircase. Made my Sjin, fitted by Ross. I set off down the carpeted stairs and I almost tumble down the last few. Alex’s wink. Oh dear, my heart has done the flippy thing. 

Pouring a glass of juice for myself and some red wine for Alex - I think he only drinks it because it looks vaguely like blood - I hear gentle footsteps from behind me. Two slender arms snake their way around my waist, my black waistcoat crumpling slightly at the touch. Alex’s chin resting gently on my shoulder. I can feel him move when he talks. 

“Hey, Strife.”

“Alex. I got your drink.” My voice is strong compared to the weakness in my legs and the thumping in my chest. Why does he have this effect on me? He must be an anomaly. He unwraps his arms to take the wine glass in both hands. I smile slightly as he stares at the red liquid like an excited child. 

He gulps down half of it and smiling as he looks at me. 

“Great choice, Strifey. Now, where was I? Right. Come with me, I think I’ve got it!” He grabs my hand and laces his fingers between mine and runs up the stairs, pulling me into his room. He shuts the door as soon as I’m fully inside, and he places one of his hands in my chest and looks at me, the cocoa eyes that I find a different colour in everyday seeping into my soul. 

“Strife, the only issue with this is, to power it I need a whole lot of blood.”

The pain is sharp. I don’t even realise what’s happening, until I look at Alex, the knife still clutched in his hand as he drives it into the centre of my chest. 

“I’m sorry, Strife. I didn’t want it to end this way. It wasn’t the plan.”

His eyes are a mixture of pain, sadness, happiness and bloodlust. He kisses my cheek lightly, his lips ghosting for a second afterwards before tugging out the knife violently, and I fall to my knees. My vision blurs slightly and Alex crouches nearby. 

“I’m sorry, Strife.”

He takes my face in his hands and strokes his thumbs across my cheeks, smears of blood appearing. He smiles sadly. 

“I’m so sorry Strife. I couldn’t help it. You know that right? Do you understand?”

I cough slightly, a spatter of blood appearing on the floor next to me. I whisper, pain coursing through my veins at every word. 

“Of course, Alex. Anything for you. Anything.”

Everything seems to get dull. His eyes aren’t as brown, his scarf not as blue. Even the deep black of his t-shirt doesn’t catch my eye. The one thing that does, however, is the blood. The blood that is coursing up the stairs to the altar, flowing against physics and slowly draining me. 

Spots appear. Black voids of nothingness. Alex seems to be crying. I can barely hear him over the silence that has consumed my brain. He kisses my forehead, and whispers against it. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

I just have the energy to raise the corner of my mouth slightly. My breathing becomes erratic, and I think _‘this is it, I’m going to die’_. 

As I shut my eyes, I hear a faint whisper. 

“ _I love you._ ”


End file.
